They bombed a hospital. This I know.
What I have to do.
I know the casualties number in the hundreds, out of total death toll of thousands, and will keep rising until the Palestinians are / dead / gone / cleansed /
White horse left alone. What I have to do.
I know the media lies, and that if they do not have lies to repeat, then they will have apologies and reasons and excuses.
Blood on their hands. What I have to do.
I know that I know very little of airstrikes and dust in my mouth and shattered eardrums and split skulls and children’s bodies in parts.
Death at full speed. Senses not yet deranged. What I have to do.
I know that metaphors can’t survive in an open air prison, and that any attempt to write poetry after Gaza is just barbarism.
Stop writing. What I have to do.
I know that cultural resistance means nothing when poets can be murdered and the Freedom Theatre can be bulldozed and Zakaria Zubeidi is still in prison.
Stop writing. What I have to do.
I know I live in the belly of the beast / Balfour / British complicity a century old. I know I can no longer ignore this.
Drop everything. Get out and go. What I have to do.
I know that Elbit Systems has eight factories in the UK, and has a network of partners and supply chains to make 50 further sites. I know Rafael owns a Newcastle factory for armoured vehicles and Thales sinks its talons into Scotland.
Belly of the beast. What I have to do.
I know these places are not in some land separated by distance and mass media, but they are here, and they can be broken and dismantled and destroyed.
The weaving frame can be smashed. What I have to do.
I know that none of us are free till Palestine is free, that the company which made Grenfell’s cladding makes the materials for fighter jets and helicopters in israel, and that the Watchkeeper drone is used in Palestine and on the British borders.
None of us are free till all of us are free. What I have to do.
I know that despite it all our words can be made flesh, and the hydra’s head can be severed. A coin older than the Zionist entity dangles on my chest to remind me of the eternal oscillation of human fortunes, and that someday the last will be first.
By any means necessary. What I have to do.
